


Random Access Memories

by broodingmischief



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Emetophobia, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Humor, M/M, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-06
Updated: 2016-07-06
Packaged: 2018-07-21 23:35:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7409602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/broodingmischief/pseuds/broodingmischief
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Saren relives some of his most intimate memories with Nihlus.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Random Access Memories

**Author's Note:**

> Hello and welcome to my excuse to write sappy shippy shit. ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

With the Citadel tower well behind them, Saren gestured for Nihlus to follow and lead him into a vacant niche between buildings. He caught Nihlus wringing out the front of his shirt when he turned to face him and rose an unimpressed brow.

"What?" Nihlus asked, raising a brow to match, or mock, Saren's. "I'm serious. Krogan. Presidium lake. 'Let's throw Nihlus in for shits and giggles to check if there are actually any fish in there.' Aren't you glad I didn't word it that way in front of the Council?"

Saren's expression didn't waver. Nihlus nudged him. "Don't give me that. I think I deserve a hug, at the very least."

Saren sighed, but he obliged. He even smiled, and the two embraced.

"Well deserved. Congratulations."

Nihlus squeezed once before he drew away. Saren grunted and glanced down at his front; the water had soaked through his robes. Nihlus' hands, however, remained in a steadfast grip on his arms, prompting him to look up. There was nothing but pure, unadulterated honesty in Nihlus' stare, and Saren forget about the dampness and everything else pertaining to his physical body.

"I really can't thank you enough for this, Saren," Nihlus said. "You saw what I was like, what my life was like, when we first met. I-" He swallowed, lowered his eyes, then met them anew. "You know what it would've _continued_ to be like."

Saren felt seized by the hand of some emotion he couldn't quite place. "Nihlus--"

Nihlus flipped up a hand. "Shh, I'm not finished!" He grinned. "Listen, a lot of people liked me, even more people hated me, but not a lot of them actually _believed_ in me. So..thanks for that." His grin devolved into a smile. "And, well, a million other things."

Saren couldn't find an appropriate response in the thick of his feelings, so he stuck with a gentle return of, "You're welcome."

Nihlus beamed and dropped his hold. Saren's blood returned to his limbs and he flexed his fingers, not sure if he felt relief or a heavy heart. Nihlus was no longer his student to withhold from the galaxy, but there was a certain pride in being able to release him into a cruel universe to do justice.

"So, are we going to celebrate?" Nihlus asked. "Buy some drinks for the Council's newest Spectre?"

Saren considered. "Yes, we are," he decided, catching Nihlus' arm and hauling him off. From there he only recalled twirling him and slamming him into the wall. He thought to look around and acquaint himself with the new area, but in his mind he knew it was the bridge to his ship, like a dream. They were all but welded together from every angle, nose to nose, mouth to mouth, chest to chest, and yet he felt Nihlus' legs tighten around his waist, still demanding more. He heard clicking, then felt his cloak slide past his shoulders and crumple around his feet.

He chanced a step back, wrapping his arms under Nihlus, but Nihlus' hands snapped to his shoulders and he threw his weight backwards, returning them to the wall with full force. Saren nearly dropped him there but planted his hands to steady himself, his head spinning. He felt Nihlus mouth something.

"No--"

Saren had to disentangle their mandibles to form his sentence. "You don't want--?"

"No," Nihlus said again, clearer this time. "Well, I mean I do, but don't move. Stay right here."

"But you're knocking over my things," Saren hissed at him.

He didn't remember moving, but they were in his cabin now, with Saren perched on his desk and Nihlus' hips cocked firmly forward, spreading Saren's legs. It was _Nihlus'_ hands that were planted on either side of him now, and Nihlus paused in his shower of affection to regard the objects on the desk's surface. A few badges had already fallen on their faces and some looked close to teetering over to join with the floor. Nihlus chuckled.

"Where's your sense of adventure?" he asked. He leaned further into Saren, tracing his tongue along the underside of his horn in time with the slow slide his body, laying his arms flat on the table and making a point of sweeping the rest of the items off the side. Saren didn't know where to focus his attention: the distant twinge of annoyance or the more overwhelming pressure of Nihlus' body burning against his. "You're a Spectre, aren't you?"

"I am," Saren managed. "As are you."

"Exactly," Nihlus said. "So let's go on an adventure."

Finally, the bed. Nihlus was splayed out, arms stretched above his head and eyes closed as Saren sat next to him, right hand trailing the tip of a claw down his neck, over his sternum, across his markings, down his belly, and up and down his waist. Nihlus shivered, arched a little, but not too much, knowing that any excess force from Saren's talons could leave a scar. The implicit trust he had in Saren was both beautiful and terrifying.  

Nihlus winced. Saren caught sight of it reflected in the mirror as he dabbed medi-gel on to the shallow gashes cut across Nihlus' backside. His shoulders had taken the worst, but there were three long, swollen blue marks traveling parallel to his spine as well.

He grimaced. "I'm sorry."

Nihlus smiled, then winced again. "Don't worry about it." He lowered his head, and Saren caught sight of a grin as he added under his breath, "Maybe I should get you some baking mitts for the next time I top."

Saren opened his eyes. He hadn't remembered closing them, but he could understand why. The salty sea breeze and lukewarm, sunset air was hard to resist. Nihlus sighed in bliss and turned away from the orange and golden view to brace his hip against the rail separating them from a pool of glittering water.

"This place is nice," he said. "A little too nice. I expect a raid or something in no less than a couple years. Perfect place to retire, dontcha think?"

Saren scoffed and turned to face him, but his comment retreated back into his throat. They stood closer than he'd realized. Nihlus blinked down at him. He smiled first, as he usually did, then frowned, placing a claw under his chin and leaning in for a kiss. Saren inhaled deeply through his nose, sighed, and bowed his head forward, grazing their crests. Nihlus flinched, not enough to break the connection, but enough that Saren noticed and stepped away, gripping the railing in his fists. He felt Nihlus' hand envelop his a beat later and squeeze, then a hand on his face--

\--then his fingers as they brushed over his mouth and skated down his neck before settling on his shoulder. Nihlus' head had disappeared under the covers maybe a minute ago, maybe more. Time lost meaning here. His mouth tickled down his body, paying slow, deliberate attention to spots that made Saren shake.

"How many times have you done this, exactly..?" Saren risked asking, kneading at the sheets between his nails.

The covers rustled as Nihlus shrugged. "Enough times," he answered, voice muffled. Saren felt something hot and wet glide up his pubic plate and he jerked his hips. Nihlus laughed, gently steadying his hips and teasing the pads of his fingers over the same split that had Saren writhing and cursing. "It's not easy, but it's possible. You might wanna get comfortable."

"I am comfortable."

"Liar."

Well, he was neither comfortable nor uncomfortable. He _should_ have been comfortable, wrapped up in Nihlus' arms with his back to his chest and his breath on his neck, but not quite. He dug in his elbow, pushing Nihlus back, then used the extra space to flip over. Nihlus pouted at him.

"Not the spooning type?" he asked.

"The what?"

Saren rolled his head, shaking the fog out of his eyes as he focused on Nihlus. He straddled his hips, his spine curved to show off his chest. His mouth moved, but he couldn't hear what came out. All he knew was that he was supine and they were both wonderfully naked.

"Pardon?" he asked. Nihlus rolled his eyes, took his hands, and lead them up his thighs.

"I said, I like the view," he replied. He rocked his hips back and forth, like a dance, sliding Saren's hands up his back. It had to be a legal offense to be that attractive. "Don't you?" 

Saren neatly tangled their fingers together. "I believe that goes without saying."

"Fuck," Nihlus swore. " _Fuck."_

Saren slowed his pace, drawing his mouth back from Nihlus' neck to breathe. He felt hazy, like he'd been drugged, but he knew better. The more apt explanation was Nihlus just being Nihlus, the living aphrodisiac. They moved in time together, naturally now, and Saren committed the warm rub of their bodies to a special place in his memory.

"What is it?" he asked a second later, nibbling at his skin.

"I think I-" Nihlus breathed, a hitch in his voice, "I think I left the stove on."

Saren crinkled his brow and lifted his head. "You what?"

Nihlus grinned, his breath fanning over Saren's face in short, hot puffs. "Nothing. I'm kidding. It just--it's nice. Can't I swear once in a while? C'mere." Nihlus tugged him in by the mandibles to cover his mouth with his own. He locked his fingers around the back of his head to hold him there, a pleased, almost whimper-like noise in the back of his throat. Saren responded in kind, finding his hands and restraining them above his head, driving each thrust in with more force, becoming less coordinated as they drew on.

"Saren," Nihlus gasped, let out a ragged breath, then curved into him. "Saren--"

" _\--Saren--"_

Saren rolled over with a choke, thrusting his arms out for balance while he retched on the floor between his hands. All those pleasant sensations before, from, from _somewhere_ were gone, replaced with a hot, sick pulsing in every cell in his body. He couldn't differentiate between alien and turian, his heartbeat and the ships, and his vision blurred into smeared shapes, spots of light, and cold colours.

He forced himself to breathe deeply. In for four, hold for six, breathe our for eight..repeat.

He climbed to his feet after three breaths, but stumbled forward as his head lurched in protest; or was that the ship? His second attempt yielded better results and he shuffled over to a rail to steady himself, one arm wrapped around his stomach. This is reality, he assured himself. He could be positive of the chilly metal beneath his feet, and the stale, filtered air. He massaged his temple with his good arm. The random invasion had stopped, for now.

Only, and the thought made him want to be sick again, but he found he couldn't remember what Sovereign had flitted through. It was as if Sovereign had clipped holes in his brain, turned it into a broken target at a shooting range. And that seemed to be key; tinkering, probing, rewriting, and outright wiping his memories seemed to be the surest way to weaken his resolve.


End file.
